Was that outloud?



He's so cute!

Apparently, I am just not getting through to this pediatrician.  I keep calling him to tell him things are not improving, and he keeps telling me that Christopher has the flu.  Why doesn't he hear me?  He went to medical school.  Didn't they teach him that the flu lasts for days, not weeks?   I didn't go to medical school, but even I know that.  I would have more respect for him if he would just tell me that he doesn't know what's wrong and send me to a specialist or something.

I decide to go to the specialist on my own.  Christopher still has that post-op appointment with the surgeon at the hospital.  Surely, he will know what's going on here.  After all, he sees kids with all kinds of weird stuff.  I'm confident he will be able to help us.

Unfortunately, my confidence is completely shaken when I hear him utter those now all too familiar words, "he has the flu".  I know I was screaming inside my head, but I think he could still hear me!  Frustration must have been written all over my face because he immediately tried to reassure me, or at least he must have thought he was.  He left the room, and then another doctor came in.  Now, who is this guy, and why is he here?  Oh, I get it.  He must be some other kind of specialist.

The only thing this guy specialized in was insults!  He looked me straight in the eye and told me that I was a hysterical first time mother.  He said that I was doing something wrong in feeding Christopher, and that Christopher's weight was plummeting because of it.  He asked me if I was aware of the fact that Christopher's weight was in the negative territory on the growth chart.  I stood there absolutely dumbfounded!  I was at a complete loss for words which, as my husband and children can attest to, almost never happens!  "Doctor Insult" left the room.  I was fuming mad.

The first doctor came back in, and he became the target of my fury.  I asked him in a very angry tone who that other guy was.  Why did he send that guy in to insult me?  I explained to him the charges that Dr. Insult had leveled against me.  By this time, I was spitting mad!  I know the screaming wasn't just inside my head because I could hear myself yelling at him.   I am not a first time mom.  Christopher is my third child, and calling me hysterical...are you serious?  I wasn't hysterical before we got here, but I'm gonna be if you don't help my son!  What is wrong with you people?  Is this some kind of horrible  dream.  If it is, wake me up!  I didn't come up here to be insulted.  I am well aware that Christopher is losing weight.  That's why I'm here.  Help him NOW!

Even to this day, I still find this exchange at the doctor's office absolutely unbelievable, not to mention completely unprofessional.  I still don't understand why they reacted this way, or why they felt it necessary to "blame the messenger".  I was coming to them for help, and instead I was being accused of being a bad mother.  I know I'm not perfect, but this was just too much!

Now what do I do?  Who do I go to for help?  Then the doubts came.  Am I doing something wrong?  Maybe I need a quick tutorial on "how to feed your baby".  I look at my other kids.  I must have done something right.  I never had any problems feeding them.  They're perfectly healthy kids.  Maybe Christopher just has some weird feeding style I don't understand, but what's with all that throwing up?  Maybe their right about one thing.  I think I must be hysterical now.   I feel like I'm living in some alternative universe.


If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this:

More tomorrow...